[WP] The world's greatest hero has three children & is of common stock. Yet they've fought dragons, gods, and saved the world from prophecy a dozen times. The would-be chosen ones always get distracted questing or some epic romance. They are starting to get quite irritated at the new hero.

The incorporeal nebulae of enigmatic consciousness's expulsed great sums of unbounded energy out into The Black. Had there been color in The Void, it would have been a vision of terrifying beauty - the kind you see inside yourself, behind where you're afraid or too smart to venture.

"AGAIN! FOILED AGAIN!" Itzra thundered as 'she', The Deceiver, let loose her rage into the nothingness. There was no response but The Unending Black they have been sentenced to.

"C..C..Calm your center Itzra....", teased Slogun, "Y..Y..You clearly should have tried a different outfit!"

Itzra exploded with hate, 'her' tendrils of enmity wrapping around Slogun, unleashing her reserves meant for her nemesis. He realized rapidly that he had overstepped his bounds and tried to recover his standing. "M...M...Maybe he just doesn't like copulation? H...H...He is getting old! Y...Y...You know we don't understand them! F..F...Filthy creatures!" Slogun squirmed with fear as to what had never before unfolded.

"Doesn't like copulation! But he is a human male!" She tried to release more of anything to let out the embarrassment of decades of defeat, but her reserves of rancor had faded and 'she' released Slogun's consciousness. 'She' sensed around for anything of comfort, but there was nothing. "He's only 45....", Itzra's voice trailed off as 'she' wandered The Prism, reflecting on her lives as a 'woman'.


"Hey Dad!"

He snapped to back to reality, quickly forgetting the vision - it was like the many hundreds before after restoring the Conduit of the Gods. He chuckled and muttered to himself as he rose from the ground, "Yeah, like SHE would have been into ME Itzra? You forget, I don't belong to myself. Nothing will remove me from my bonds. Nothing.." he trailed off to almost a whimper and shuddered.

"What... Dad?"

"Oh I was just chuckling and cringing about that incident last night. Did you have to do that?"

Sopharia, floating a with a few hilli above the ground on the morning currents, started again with, "I told you so Dad."

"Well you didn't have to use blood magic in front of the tavern folk! The fairies lost their composure! Aldea fainted for Pero's sake! And who knows if they can ever eat or even look at a gimpi again! I mean, I taught you sixteen normal schools of magic..." he trails off as he shakes his head with remembrance.

Sopharia landed gracefully, a two-stepper, with the wild hilli perched on her shoulders. Her two sisters regularized beside her. Vivie raises her head to look at her father and embraces him with her benevolent aura. Cural turns her back, and brushes the curls out of her face as she walks toward the wagon.

"Mom told us to aim for you."

/r/WritingPrompts Thread